tion in the city of St. Petersburg, of
the Peace concluded with the Turkish Empire by his Excellency, Prince
Alexander Alexandrovich Prozorovsky". In another, "Recipe of a
decoction for the chest," with the remark. "This prescription
was given the Generaless Prascovia Fedorovna Saltykof, by the
Archpresbyter of the Life-beginning Trinity, Fedor Avksentevich."
Sometimes there occurred a piece of political information, as
follows:--

"About the French tigers there is somehow silence"--and close by, "In
the _Moscow Gazette_ there is an announcement of the decease of the
First-Major Mikhail Petrovich Kolychef. Is not this the son of Peter
Vasilievich Kolychef?"

Lavretsky also found some old calendars and dream-books, and the
mystical work of M. Ambodik. Many a memory did the long-forgotten but
familiar "Symbols and Emblems" recall to his mind. In the furthest
recess of one of the drawers in Glafira's toilette-table, Lavretsky
found a small packet, sealed with black wax, and tied with a narrow
black ribbon. Inside the packet were two portraits lying face to face,
the one, in pastel, of his father as a young man, with soft curls
falling over his forehead, with long, languid eyes, and with a
half-open mouth; the other an almost obliterated picture of a pale
woman, in a white dress, with a white rose in her hand--his mother. Of
herself Glafira never would allow a portrait to be taken.

"Although I did not then live in the house," Anton would say to
Lavretsky, "yet I can remember your great grandfather, Andrei
Afanasich. I was eighteen years old when he died. One day I met him
in the garden--then my very thighs began to quake. But he didn't do
anything, only asked me what my name was, and sent me to his bed-room
for a pocket-handkerchief. He was truly a seigneur--every one must
allow that; and he wouldn't allow that any one was better than
himself. For I may tell you, your great grandfather had such a
wonderful amulet--a monk from Mount Athos had given him that
amulet--and that monk said to him, 'I give thee this, O Boyar, in
return for thy hospitality. Wear it, and fear no judge.' Well, it's
true, as is well known, that times were different then. What a
seigneur wanted to do, that he did. If ever one of the gentry took it
into his head to contradict him, he would just look at him, and say,
'Thou swimmest in shallow water'[A]--that was a favorite phrase with
him. And he lived, did your great grandfather of blessed memory, i